Community Publishing
Looking Out My Window
Its a gift.Its a need.Its wonderful.Its life.Its beautiful.Its here.Its in our lives.
Today,is different,as one looks about.To sit here and not dream.to not wish
Last night we sat here together.Last night you watched the movie.I listened.
To the voices,and your laugh among them.The anguish of mishaps,heard.
I looked out my window,between the lines of writing,which appeared before me.
The thoughts were absent and mislead.The sounds came to me,the traffic below
To gaze into the night,and the city lights.To hear your sighs,as the movie,ended
The window was clearer than the evening sky.The smog even at night,was low,smelly
I could see nothing,as the business lights went out.There was no sky,there were no clouds
I could almost wish to be somewhere else.I could be somewhere.Some where to hide outside
The skyscrapers loom in the distant.No more than a half mile.Perhaps the moon,unseen is there.
Its been along time to see any stars.The North Star,returns at times.Its not often,for clear sky
The mist of the smog,is not as it is to be mistaken for fog.The fog,leaves in the early morning,light
I look out the window,and I look at my wife.She readies for bed,and the blinds are turned downward
She smiles,and her English is light.She speaks differently than in her language.She really loves me
She disappears,and now the window is shaded.Through the blinds,whispers of light,seep right through
I look out my window,for the last time.The noises are less,yet will continue all night. Now I will say
Good Night
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